Dark Necessities

Dark Necessities

The music starts with soft but strong repeating cords and builds with piano but its the pause about forty seconds into the song that the bass line hits and it gets stuck in your head. By the time the lyrics start the song has reached places in your mind, deep into your soul and beyond, and it is a song that will stick with you.

That is the same with writing for me. It is a necessary obsession, writing. It stems from the soft yet strong foundation. The patience of a teacher to help a kid who couldn’t read. It builds with trauma. It peaks with a realization that what could be said out loud made more sense when it was written on paper and gifted to the intended. That is the constant bass of the writing. The need to do it in order to express oneself to the world.

Anyone can write. I’ve maintained that since I was a teenager. It doesn’t take much to pen a letter, a song, a story, a poem. But it isn’t for everyone. And even those who say they are writers are not for everyone. Some of us write for the pure need deep in our soul. It is a Dark Necessity. How we get through our lives. The words we write, the obsessive nature of perfect stories, and the struggles of the task are beyond the simple word vomit that can end up best sellers by algorithm and paid reviews. (If you are a writer and take offense that’s on you.) I’m not a highly reviewed author. Hell I don’t think anyone I know reads my books except for a select few people. If I can’t get friends and family to buy my books am I a real writer?

That is a debate I’ve had many times, not just with myself but with others. Just because someone can put out a book in a few months (ah-hem, yes I’ve written a novel in a month so I can do it,) doesn’t mean that the book is ready for the public. Sometimes the first draft should always be that, a draft. Sometimes a story can go from idea to finished and ready for publishing in a short time. It is all a process that is different for everyone.

I’ve been a writer for nearly four decades now. I’ve been a published author for only eight years. Yet I consider myself a writer and author who commands the attention of readers, and I know my words have an impact. So how come I’m not more popular, a best seller on amazon, highly reviewed, traditionally published? There are a lot of factors that go into that.

Cutting through all the noise of other writers has never been a strength for me. Cutting through the noise of the world less so. I’ve spent too much of my life in a cave of my own making. Self isolation due to depression, anxiety, fear. It was easier to escape into the world of books and the written word. When you are an artist, a creative soul, one who desperately yearns for more beyond wealth and fame your passion can also be your prison.

So if I can’t be a superstar author who has all the reviews and the movie deals and the best sellers, then why do it? Why continue to chase a dream that most fail at.

It’s a dark necessity.

Hopeless Romantic

Wednesday Ramblings – Hopeless Romantic

I’ve always been a romantic. I was the 11 year old sitting in a tree in my back yard reading Romeo & Juliet and understanding that love didn’t have to make sense to anyone else, just the two who felt it. And since I will always love reading Romeo & Juliet and this post isn’t to debate that story, we will quickly move on.

I was the girl who thought love was hearts, flowers, courtship, you know everything books hype it up to be. 18 years together has taught me a little about my hopeless nature and the true meaning of love and romance.

Our Ocean – Watch Point, Rhode Island

As a writer we often wax poetic about love but I strive to show the details that are often hidden in relationships. The stuff no one else sees. After a long time in the company of another person a sort of secret language develops, and a secret world is formed.

Love becomes not the flowers, cards, and gifts of youth, but the late nights, heartbreaks, and struggles of real adult life. It’s forgetting the anniversary of the day you met until 2 days later and laughing about it instead of yelling that neither of you did anything special to celebrate 18 years. It is realizing that the fact you’ve stayed together 18 years is special.

It’s making light of health struggles in a way that brings a smile- when someone says they feel like jello and the discussion becomes about the evil lime. It’s knowing that if you say sorry for something there won’t be more fighting, but an understanding that we are both human and learning to grow.

It’s over coming the past. It’s knowing how to get passed the hurt that someone (or many someone) else caused and growing from it. It’s excitement for the home you are building together.

Forget Me Not

True love doesn’t just happen. That is the biggest lesson I’ve learned. In the time I’ve been in love with my husband I haven’t always liked him. In that time I’ve loved others. I’ve looked away and always come right back. It took work to continue to get through the days and nights with the same person, when something shiny and new seems a better option. It’s knowing that at the end of our days when we lay our heads down the last time they will put us in the ground right next to each other.

Knowing something that certain in a world so full of uncertainty is why I am still a hopeless romantic. The fancy florist flowers fade but the garden still grows. The shiny gifts tarnish but hold more value for the wear. The new romance smell doesn’t linger but the scent of together never fades.

Don’t Blink

When the love of your life becomes your everything there are many who throw stones. Words like co-dependent, clingy, needy, sheep, traditionalists, are thrown around. There is nothing wrong with trusting your care to someone else. There is something to be said for traditions, no matter how unconventional they look. There is a blessing in sleeping next to someone and needing the scent of their shampoo as you drift off.

I will never lose the spirit of that girl in the tree looking for her Romeo. I will always need the romance. But the romance isn’t just the pretty package tied in a bow. True romance is messy, dirty, and just a little bit odd. It’s the best romance there is!